Mastery of Design: Ring with a Cameo of Demeter, 1799

Cameo Ring
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection 
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

In the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries, the fashion for cameos prompted jewelers to take ancient carvings and set them in new gold mounts and bezels. This ring from the Royal Collection is a nifty example of that trend.

The cameo of white and brown striated sardonyx is an ancient Roman piece from the First Century B.C. It was mounted in this gold ring with an open bezel in 1799 and first recorded in the Royal Collection in 1872, likely a gift to Queen Victoria. The cameo depicts a half-figure of a woman in left profile. She’s holding two stalks of corn and almost certainly represents Demeter. 

The Home Beautiful: Jatte à punch, 1790

Jatte a Punch
French, 1790
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

King George IV was given this punch bowl. The work of hard paste porcelain with gilded adornment comes from the Sèvres Porcelain Factory and was made around 1790.

The bowl had been commissioned by Maria Luisa of Parma, Queen of Spain. She was the wife of Charles IV. The bowl, at the time was valued at 10,800 livres. The details of how it ended up in the hands of George IV are somewhat sketchy. It was recorded in the collection of George IV’s Carlton House in 1826 with a notation that it had been a gift from French regent Louis XVI in 1791. The dates don’t match up somehow.

The polychrome bowl is adorned with a border of scrolls and foliate volutes on a white ground. The gilt central band boasts floral garlands, baskets of flowers and vases. Four reserves have been decorated with allegorical scenes of the Seasons. Further adornment includes borders of ivy, myrtle, acanthus, birds, butterflies, corn husks, and pearls. Cupid and Flora, Bacchus, Ceres and Apollo represent the seasons.

The Royal Collection

Painting of the Day: A German Farmer in his Cornfield, c. 1873

A Gentleman Farmer Surveying His Corn
FH Pfeiffer, c. 1873
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

I’m tickled that the Royal Collection identifies the subject of this painting as a “corpulent farmer.” I just like the word “corpulent.” And, it’s a good description for this fellow.

The painting is the work of FH Pfeiffer (presumably he was born and died, but we don’t quite know when—only that he was active around 1873). It’s one of those combination genre paintings and landscapes which were popular in the 1870s, a period during which artists liked the idea of depicting the “noble poor” as well as images of aristocrats engaged in common activities.

This “corpulent” farmer is attired in a red waistcoat and yellow breeches. He’s a bit overdressed for his work as he surveys his corn crop. He’s joined by his faithful dog who is clearly bored with the whole thing. I guess he doesn’t like being a…corn dog.

Oddly enough, this is the only photo of the piece—cropped strangely as it is.

Sculpture of the Day: Victoria, Princess Royal as Summer, 1846

Victoria, Princess Royal as Summer
Mary Thornycroft
Britain, 1848
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

One of a series by Mary Thornycroft (1814-1895) (wonderful name), this sculpture was given to Queen Victoria by Prince Albert on August 26, 1848. The series depicts the Royal offspring as the seasons. Exhibited at the Great Exhibition of 1851, the life-size marble statue depicts Princess Victoria, still a child, as Summer. She’s caught in a moment, just about to sit on a tree stump, wearing flowing robes in the classical style. The princess holds, in her left hand, a floral wreath and a sheaf of corn.

Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 172

Chapter 172
Play Mute 


“No, Sir.” Charles whispered, clamping a hand on Punch’s shoulder. “Not yet.”

“But, Charlie…” Punch protested in a hiss.

“Give it a few minutes.” Charles replied softly. “The woman knows what she’s doing.”

Mr. Punch shook his head and looked pleadingly at Robert. “Chum…”

Robert nodded. “I agree with Charles.”

“Aw, Chum.” Punch frowned.

“My dear, I know you’re concerned about Lennie, but we must trust her instincts.”

“But, she’s my kin.” Punch replied.

“And, you’re mine. And, Collin’s. I can’t…” Robert coughed emotionally. “You…I can’t let you rush in there and…”

Punch sighed. “Very well, but if there’s any sign of more trouble, I’m…”

“Yes, of course, dear Punch.” Robert answered.

Punch wrung his hands together, twisting the ring that Robert had given him. He pressed his back against the cold wall of the stables and squinted into the growing light of the dawn.

The three men breathed shallowly, trying not to make a sound so they could hear all that went on inside.

They could hear Lennie’s voice—measured and theatrical—as she gasped.

“I…” Lennie stammered. “I’d heard you were dead.”

“From whom?” Ellen glowered.

“From the Duke’s man and that blonde maid.” Lennie looked toward Johnny Donnan. “This man brought them to the cottage where you’d been keeping me.”

“Not keeping very well.” Ellen sighed, rubbing her head.

“How did you get out?”

“The Duke and his companion, they found us.”

“Did they?” Ellen’s eyes widened. “And, you went with them?”

“I had no choice.” Lennie replied stiffly. “What could I have done? Have I made a mistake? Are you upset?”

“Dear, dear…you know I just want you to be safe. You know I’m only thinking of your well-being. That’s why I secured you in the cottage. I brought you here to be near me—so I’d know you were safe. The Duke is utterly mad and he has close ties to the Crown. There’s no telling what sort of henchmen he can employ. If he ever discovered that it was…” She paused and winced. Taking a deep breath, she began again. “If he ever discovered your secret, dear, dear…Orpha…he’d surely harm you.”

“I see.” Lennie replied dryly.

“Lass, what’s this one’s secret? Who is she to you?” Johnny asked, apparently unaware of “Ellen’s” deception.

“She’s called ‘Orpha,’ Father. She was my maid once, and a nurse to Roger.” Ellen lied.

“I see. Loyal to her, are ya?” Johnny grunted.

“Oh, I am.” Ellen forced a smile. “We’ve always been such bosom friends. Isn’t that right, Orpha?”

Lennie smiled and waited several seconds before responding—several grueling seconds for “Ellen” who feared that Lennie would reveal the truth.

“It is true,” Lennie replied slowly. “We’ve always been dear friends.”

“Still don’t understand why the Duke would want to harm her. What’s her secret?” Johnny squinted.

“Her friendship with me, Father.” Ellen answered. “If the Duke knew of our connection, he might wish to exact his power over her to try to control me. After all, he did try to kill me.”

“Aye.” Johnny grumbled.

“How rude, I am.” Ellen said quickly. “You must forgive me, I’m still quite disoriented from…from the blow to my head. Father, this is Orpha Polk. Orpha, I’d like to introduce my father, Mr. Donnan.”

Lennie nodded. “We’ve met.”

“Sorry if I was rough with ya, girl.” Johnny muttered, looking at the hay on the floor. “I did no’ know you was friend to my girl. All I knew is that I was to take you to the cottage.”

Lennie nodded again.

“Surely you’re pleased to see me alive and well?” Ellen began.

“Oh, yes, pardon my scream, it was just a shock.” Lennie replied. “But, whatever do you intend to do? Now that the Duke has been told you’re his sister, and after what he’s done to you…”

“My father is helping me.” Ellen interrupted.

“To do what?” Lennie asked.

“To find my place in the Duke’s household.”

“He doesn’t seem an unreasonable man, the Duke.” Lennie shook her head.

“You spoke with him?” Ellen frowned.

“Well, yes, when he and his companion found us, he questioned me. I couldn’t play mute.”

“What did you tell him?”

Lennie bit her lip, unsure if she wanted to instigate her own deception on Ellen. “I…I told him simply that I was one of the maids hired from a nearby estate for the ball and that I’d gotten lost. I told him that I’d found my way into to cottage, but couldn’t find my way out.”

“Oh, good.” Ellen inhaled.

“Now that we’ve found one another again,” Lennie said. “I’m so relieved. Let me help you, too. As it was when we were girls, Ellen, anything that concerns you, concerns me. Let me help you as you’ve helped me in the past.”

Ellen paused and narrowed her eyes.

“I do owe you much,” Lennie continued.

“Yes,” Ellen smiled. “You do.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-172 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 174.

Drawing of the Day: The Corn Rose, 1680

Page from the Florilegium of Alexander Marshal
c. 1680
Crown Copyright
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

The delicate drawing, dating to 1680, is the work of Alexander Marshal (c. 1620-82). Marshal was part of a league of “gentlemen gardeners” living in London in the Seventeenth Century. These gents looked to the cultivation of rare and exotic plants to learn about the workings of the natural world. They reveled, especially, in those plants which had been imported from the Near East and America at the start of the Seventeenth Century.

Marshal spent thirty years compiling a “florilegium” (flower book) which, in the end, contained 154 folios recording interesting and rare plants growing in the English gardens of his friends. Curiously, Marshal didn’t consider himself an artist, but his talent is evident. His florilegium is the only English flower book from the Seventeenth Century that survives. He never intended the folios to be sold or published, but rather, produced the book for the enjoyment and education of his friends.

King George IV was presented with the florilegium by an unknown party in the 1820s.

This leaf from the book features watercolors of three plants including: the Red Poppy (or Corn Rose), the Cockle and a Jacob's Ladder. The flowers are identified on the reverse.

Reverse
Alexander Marshal, 1680
The Royal Collection
Image Courtesy of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

Object of the Day, Caption Contest: Cornflake S. Pecially

Click on image to go into the cornfield.

Once upon a time, this mutant came with some kind of explanation, but that’s been lost to the ages. What is he? He’s part cornstalk, part man, part cigar. He’s horrible and lovely all at once in that way that only Victorian advertising images can attain both qualities.

I’m sure that he once made some kind of sense—in a Nineteenth Century way. On the reverse, there are ragged traces—a letter here and there—that suggest that the card was printed with some justification for this regal monster. But, these cards were made to be saved in albums. Sometimes they were held in place with little paper corners. Sometimes they were glued in. This one was glued, and the back of the card was left behind when he was yanked from his album.

However, that just gives us an opportunity for a caption contest. What’s going on with this fellow? What could the product possibly be? What does he have to say? Answers in the comments section, please.